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I started reading For Whom the Bell Tolls yesterday and, when telling a friend about it via text, used a Hemingway writing-style. It was then that I got the idea to do an entire blog in the voice of Ernest Hemingway. Just imagine that he wrote this next piece.

Yea, Ernest wrote this.

From beyond the grave…

—

The coffee shop was almost empty. It was warm outside, but the inside was air conditioned and the cold air running across the sweat on the back of Kyle’s neck made him shiver. It was just after five o’ clock and the sun had already begun descending in the western sky, its rays bouncing off the verdant pines and scrub trees that grew along the perimeter of the shop.

Kyle sat at the corner of the room of the café, reading. He closed the book and sat it down on the table before him. The coffee was making him hot and he could not focus on the pages. He also had to fart very badly, and the constant clenching of his butt cheeks distracted him. His cheeks shook with the strain.

Kyle heard footsteps and a moment later a beautiful woman entered. She sat in a chair on the other side of the room. She had tawny brown skin and hair that was the color of night. She was very beautiful. Her ass was also fantastic.

“Bounce a quarter off that ass,” Kyle said wistfully, his eyes full and dreaming. He did not realize that he had moved from his seat and was standing mere inches from the woman. He was also looking directly at her when he said this.

“I’m very busy,” she said. There were several books spread out on her table. Kyle did not think they belonged to her. She was much too pretty to read, he thought. He thought a prankster had put them there to confuse her.

“May I sit with you while you get busy?” Kyle asked.

“There’s not another seat here,” she responded. She was right. There was no seat opposite her own.

“That’s okay. I was tired of sitting anyway.” He moved to the empty spot across from her and stood.

“You’re making me incredibly uncomfortable,” the girl said. She shifted in her seat.